Dance of the Vampires (Roman Polanski, 1967)
Or 'The Fearless Vampire Killers'. Or 'Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are In My Neck'. It's hard to tell what possessed Polanski (between directing two notably sophisticated psychological horrors) to embark upon this bizarre spoof on Hammer Studios vampire lore, in which he himself plays the dim-witted apprentice to a bumbling professor. It's rough and shaggy, but also warm and moody. Though several of the gags fall flat, it's the rich textures and inspired bits of lunacy that you remember, as well as the playful way it has of making you jump.